An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

The fiend  the enemy  always with the  long monologue  reveal the plan  to take over  the whole world  give them the  courtesy  because plot armor  is expected  for that speech  so the hero just waits until they are done

When good events happen  it’s good to celebrate them  life is not easy but there are the little moments.  So why is it  such a sin  to be happy for them? Why can't we share it?  Why is it so satisfying  to put down the joy  and mock the ones  who even mention it? Because jealousy is rife and modesty is the rule existence is a drudgery until the very end? That is a cynical way to live if you want to be miserable don't bring the rest of us down.

A distant memory  though the passage of time  has not been long at all  Grasp at details  muddied by events  between now and then  Names dissolve into disjointed mist and I cannot spell those. Sensations fade  even as I try my hardest  to remember them.

She was a baby  days become years it all passes by all too quickly  tea times with her plushies all drunk and spring dresses no longer fit her now she is almost  a full woman grown  and I must learn  how to let go  the first and last one  to go out into this  vast vast world

Thoughts consuming  it is always too easy  to live just within  the confines of the mind  look for rational answers  logical connections  comparing prices checking sources over and over and over pushing back deadlines so much talk and  so much planning  that nothing actually  ever gets done But it's never your fault you just wanted  to get everything just right.

Words written down  on bark on parchment  on bamboo scrolls in languages both known and unknown marks and pictures not primitive but precise and complex the wisdom of the ancients  in soot or in ink  jet black or multicolored stories of the past  bundled up and stored  just waiting to be discovered